Page 24

I've been avoiding Trent for three days.

Not exactly hard to do in a settlement this size.

Haven's Edge sprawls across the valley in a way Unity never would have allowed, structures built wherever they made sense rather than in perfect geometric patterns.

My temporary quarters sit on the eastern edge, while Trent's been assigned space near the medical facility. Plenty of distance between us.

Plenty of space to nurse my anger.

I lean against the rough-hewn windowsill, watching the sunrise paint the sky in colors Unity never bothered to simulate.

Pinks and golds bleed into purples and blues, shifting with each passing second.

The beauty hurts in a way I can't explain, like I’m simultaneously reminded that I am a being connected to this world, to this nature, while knowing I have spent my whole life missing this.

Taught that this was somehow bad .

"Dammit," I mutter as a jolt of pain shoots through my temples. The headaches are getting worse. Each one feels like someone's rewiring my brain with a rusty screwdriver.

I press my forehead against the cool glass, waiting for the spike to pass. When it finally does, I notice my reflection in the window—eyes briefly flashing amber before fading back to their usual dark brown.

Not good.

I push away from the window and grab my jacket—another donation from the settlement, made of actual leather that still smells faintly of its previous owner.

My morning walk has become the one routine I can count on in this new life.

The locals have mostly stopped staring, though I still catch whispers as I pass.

"Elara's daughter."

"Unity Sentinel."

"Sleeper modifications."

Always nice to be the talk of the town.

The cool morning air hits my face as I step outside, carrying scents that would have been filtered out of Unity's sterile atmosphere, soil and vegetation and something metallic that might be my own altered biology registering in ways my brain still can't quite process.

I follow the worn path that winds through the settlement, deliberately taking the route that avoids the medical facility. No chance encounters today. Not when my head feels like it might split open, not when my anger still simmers just beneath the surface.

He knew, that fucker.

All this time, Trent knew what I was.

The thought sends another pulse of fury through me, hot and sharp.

Every moment of our partnership, every mission, every neural sync, all while he watched for signs of my "condition.

" Was anything real? Or was I just an assignment he was monitoring, waiting for the right moment to deliver me back to the people who created me?

"You're up early."

I whirl toward the unfamiliar voice, my body automatically dropping into a defensive stance. Three years of Sentinel training doesn't disappear overnight .

The man watching me from the shadow of a nearby structure raises his eyebrows, looking more amused than threatened. "Nice reflexes. Unity training?"

I straighten slowly, assessing him. He's tall, as tall as Trent but with a leaner build, all whipcord muscle and predatory grace.

His dark hair falls just past his shoulders, tied back in a way that accentuates sharp cheekbones and a jaw that could cut glass.

But it's his eyes that hold my attention—amber like Eden's, with that same reflective quality that catches the early morning light.

"Who's asking?" I keep my voice neutral, though something about his presence sets off warning bells. Not danger, exactly, but something equally unsettling.

"Vex." He steps closer, moving with a fluid confidence I've only seen in the most elite Sentinels. "Head of security for Haven's Edge." His eyes scan me with unnerving intensity. "And you're Zara Thorne. Unity's most efficient Sentinel turned prodigal daughter."

The way he says "Sentinel" carries the same tone most people reserve for "cockroach."

"Former Sentinel," I correct, though the distinction feels hollow. Three days ago, I was hunting Splinters. Now I'm becoming one.

Sort of.

"Is there such a thing?" He circles me slowly, and I turn to keep him in view. "Unity's conditioning runs deep. Especially for their attack dogs."

My hackles rise. "You always this charming with newcomers?"

That earns me a flash of teeth, though it’s not quite a smile. "Only the ones who might still be dangerous."

Before I can respond, another spike of pain shots through my skull, this one bad enough to make me stagger. I catch myself against a nearby wall, vision swimming. Shit.

Vex is at my side instantly, all trace of antagonism vanishing. " How long have the transformation episodes been happening?"

"Since we arrived," I manage through gritted teeth. "Getting worse."

He nods as if this confirms something. "Your body's adapting faster now that you're exposed to others with active modifications. Enhanced perception isn't pleasant when your brain doesn't know how to process the input yet."

"Feels like dying," I admit, straightening as the pain recedes again.

"Not dying. Evolving." He studies me closely "Your mother's work was revolutionary. The ability to package modifications in a dormant state, programmed to activate years later... most of us had our changes forced on us all at once. Crude by comparison."

The casual mention of my mother—a woman I barely remember—sends another flare of anger through me. "Lucky me."

His expression shifts subtly. "You should be at the medical facility. Dr. Reid has experience with transition phases."

"I'm fine."

"You're not." He gestures to my hands. "You're changing faster than your body can stabilize."

I look down and freeze. My fingernails have elongated slightly, hardening into something resembling claws. As I watch, they recede back to normal, leaving behind a dull ache.

"Fuck," I whisper.

"Medical facility. Now." Vex's tone brooks no argument. "Or I carry you there."

I want to resist on principle, but another wave of dizziness makes the decision for me. "Fine. I can walk."

We're halfway to the medical building when the sky tilts sideways and the ground rushes up to meet me. Strong arms catch me before I hit dirt, and the world goes dark.

I wake to the sound of arguing voices.

"—absolutely reckless to allow her to wander the settlement in this condition." That's Trent, his normally controlled voice tight with anger.

"She's not a prisoner, Sentinel." Vex's voice, cool and dismissive. "Or is control so deeply ingrained that you can't help yourself?"

"Enough, both of you." Dr. Reid this time. "Your territorial posturing isn't helping her condition."

I force my eyes open, squinting against harsh light. I'm in what must be the medical facility—clean but nothing like Unity's sterile white chambers. Medical equipment hums softly nearby, and I'm lying on something that's trying to be a bed but feels more like a slab with padding.

"She's awake," Vex announces.

Trent is at my side instantly, concern etched into every line of his face. "Zara. How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a transport vehicle." My voice sounds strange to my own ears, raspier, with a slight resonant quality I don't recognize. "What happened?"

"Severe neural cascade," Dr. Reid explains, moving into view. "Your sensory enhancements activated simultaneously instead of in sequence. Essentially, your brain was flooded with more input than it could process."

I try to sit up, but my body feels wrong, too heavy and too light at the same time. "This is normal?"

"For accelerated adaptation, yes." Reid checks something on a monitor. "Your mother designed your modifications to activate gradually over years. Being in an environment with other active modifications has compressed that timeline dramatically. "

"You're stabilizing now," Trent says, his hand hovering near mine but not quite touching. "The worst should be over."

I notice Vex watching this interaction with narrowed eyes. "The worst is just beginning," he counters. "Her body is fundamentally reorganizing itself. Every system will be affected."

"I'm right here," I remind them both sharply. "Stop talking about me like I'm a fucking specimen."

Reid at least has the grace to look chastened.

"You're right. I apologize." He pulls up a chair beside my bed.

"Zara, what you're experiencing is a concentrated version of the adaptive process your mother designed.

Your genetic modifications aren't additions to your system—they're integrated patterns programmed to express when triggered.

Think of it as a delayed puberty of sorts. "

"Puberty didn't involve growing claws," I mutter.

"Those were temporary," Vex says. "Your body testing potential adaptations before settling on what's most useful."

I flex my fingers, relieved to see normal nails. "So what happens next? More surprise body horror?"

"Your systems will stabilize around your most necessary adaptations," Reid explains. "Enhanced sensory processing seems to be primary, followed by accelerated healing and increased physical capabilities. The exact manifestations will depend partly on environmental pressures."

"And how long does this 'stabilization' take?"

Reid and Vex exchange glances.

"Hard to say," Reid admits. "Your modifications are unique. Based on what I've observed so far, anywhere from a few days to a week."

"A week of this?" The thought makes me want to scream.

"I can help," Vex says unexpectedly. "I've guided others through difficult transitions. My modifications are different from yours, but the adaptation process is similar."

Trent stiffens beside me. "Dr. Reid is more qualified?— "

"Dr. Reid understands the theory," Vex cuts him off. "I've lived it. There's a difference."

Before either man can escalate their obvious dislike of each other, another wave of pain crashes through me. This one's worse, white-hot agony that radiates from my spine outward. I barely register my own scream as my back arches off the bed.